


Ferret

by zorilleerrant



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dark, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 10:19:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6325153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zorilleerrant/pseuds/zorilleerrant





	Ferret

“Whoops, looks like he’s heading for Diagon, hope he doesn’t end up in the Ferret’s shop,” Ron cackled.

Harry threw his head back in a laugh, chasing after Ron and their suspect, enjoying the easy way the crowd parted for Auror red and left him free to run. This was the most worthwhile part of the job – the only time he could spend in the public eye without being mobbed by fans and detractors and biographers and photographers and classmates he couldn’t remember.

Of course, the next turn took them to Diagon Alley proper, and then there were throngs of people pushing against each other trying to make room for Harry and Ron where there wasn’t really any room to make, but it meant that with each bystander the suspect tried to push aside, the Aurors gained on him just a little, until, finally, he ducked into a shop in a last ditch effort to outrun them.

Ron snorted, and both Aurors broke down into laughter.

“I guess we get to visit the Ferret, after all,” Harry said, and they grinned, and they pushed their way into the shop as one, so both doors flung open.

A quick look around showed several patrons pressed flush against the walls, but no suspect anywhere in sight.

“Where’d he go?” Harry bellowed, taking a step closer to the counter.

Malfoy stood behind it, wide-eyed and stammering.

“Out with it,” Harry demanded, raising his wand from his hip to a more comfortable position, in case Malfoy attacked. It wouldn’t be the first time, after all, and it was easiest to duck into your confederate’s shop for protection, wasn’t it?

Malfoy, though, had both hands gripped around the edge of the counter, nails gone completely white, and his breathing was harsh and too quick. Harry looked for the telltale dilated pupils that would complete the guilty tableau, but with his eyes closed, the Ferret had him beat on that front.

Harry jabbed his wand out, closer to Malfoy. Then, realizing he couldn’t see, Harry pressed the tip against the other man’s throat.

Malfoy went completely still, even his chest. The only thing that even marked him as a living being was the flutter of a heartbeat against Harry’s wand, and even that was fast enough to be mistaken for a background hum.

“Where’d he go, Malfoy?” Harry asked, voice pitched low and clear.

“For Merlin’s sake, that way,” one of the patrons finally said, a trembling hand pointing toward one of the storerooms.

Harry and Ron tore after their criminal.

Harry followed up with the Ferret the very next day. Oh, they got their man, of course, but he disavowed any knowledge of working with the shopkeeper. Harry wasn’t convinced, but, of course, he could always show up for an interview.

Malfoy’s eyes widened when he opened the door. Guilty conscience.

“Hello, Malfoy,” Harry said, with a grin.

Malfoy looked down, tapping his fingers against the countertop. “Can I help you, Auror Potter?” he asked.

“I think you can,” Harry said. “I think you can tell me what you know about what happened in your shop yesterday.”

“Nothing more than what you saw,” the Ferret said. “He ran in, shoved a few people, ran into a storeroom and out the back.”

“Out the back?” Harry repeated. “Funny. I don’t remember ever telling you that.”

Malfoy’s gaze snapped up, fire in it. There was the Ferret he remembered. “Well, seeing as you weren’t still in the shop when I closed up, I figured all three of you must have left.”

Harry leaned forward, resting his elbows on the countertop and looking Malfoy in the eye. “Oh, you figured, did you, Ferret?”

Malfoy flinched back. “Don’t call me that.”

“Why not?” Harry asked, “bring back bad memories?”

“As a matter of fact, yes,” the Ferret said, “and given that I chose not to file a formal complaint against you, I would think you’d pretend to respect that a little.”

Harry crossed his arms. “A formal complaint about what? I didn’t break anything in your precious store except the lock on the door, and you got a receipt for that.”

“What you did well crossed the line into assault,” Malfoy said. “I would think even the great Harry Potter would get a token investigation what with all the witnesses.”

Harry scoffed. “I never attacked you. Why would I even attack you?”

Malfoy stared at him, head tilted to the side. “You tried to murder me.”

“Oh, please,” Harry said, “if I’d wanted you dead I would’ve just cast something, not bothered to jab my wand into your throat.”

“Not yesterday,” the Ferret said, “back when – never mind.”

“What, that?” Harry laughed. “Are you still fussed about that?”

“Oh, no,” Malfoy drawled, “I never wake up in a cold sweat, or find myself huddled in a corner with no idea how I got there, or panic at the sight of a wand pointed at me.”

“Maybe you should get a therapist,” Harry suggested.

“I have a therapist,” the Ferret spat, “and there’s only so much that can be done, Auror Potter, and if you’re done, I do better the less I interact with you.”

Harry shrugged. “Alright, then, Ferret, but I’ll be back if –”

“Fuck,” Malfoy said.

Harry glared. “What is it this time?”

“Can you not fucking call me that?” Malfoy said.

“Really?” Harry grinned. “All this about me trying to kill you, and the thing that really gets to you is being called a ferret?”

“Oh, I’m very fucking sorry that an attempted murder is not the only traumatic experience I’ve gone through, Potter,” Malfoy spat. “At least I don’t try to throw yours in your face. You could do me that courtesy.”

“Oh, you want to talk about trauma, Ferret?” Harry pinned Malfoy’s arms against the counter they’d been resting on, and flipped one over. “Let’s talk about what you did for your beloved Lord Voldemort.”

Malfoy stared down at the now-bared Dark Mark, arms relaxing against Harry’s grip. “You know how I got this?” he murmured.

“Yeah,” Harry said. “You begged for it.”

Malfoy let out a bark of laughter. “Begged is right. They took my mother, said if I didn’t agree to take the mark they’d never stop. Three hours I watched. Three hours, and the whole time hearing _don’t give in, Draco, whatever they do don’t give in_ over and over because that was the last thing she said to me before they dragged me off for training, and I did give in, because I was weak and stupid and afraid and I couldn’t hold out for any longer than three measly fucking hours. And do you know the first thing ‘my beloved Lord Voldemort’ did when I had to obey his commands? He had me take over where they left off. Three hours. That was all it took.”

Harry’s hands twitched, and Malfoy pulled out of his grip.

“And do you know what?” Malfoy laughed again. “I still have more nightmares about shrinking, because at least when I had hands I knew I could always grab a wand and end it.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry stuttered.

Malfoy stared at him impassively. “If you’d like someone to talk with, I can recommend someone, Auror Potter, otherwise, please, leave me in peace.”


End file.
